


Petals on the Path

by SlytherinTeam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Badass Aunt Petunia, F/M, Good Petunia Evans Dursley, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Redemption, Regret, Romance, Self-Loathing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinTeam/pseuds/SlytherinTeam
Summary: What if 23-year old Petunia Evans was still single when her 21-year old sister and her husband were killed? Upon finding out she’ll have to care for her orphaned nephew for the next 17 years, the man Petunia is seeing at the time decides to break things off. With no husband or children of her own, and all of her close family members dead, Harry is all Petunia has - that is until, an old childhood enemy walks back into her life and slowly becomes a friend, and maybe more…In which Petunia regrets cutting off her sister and Severus regrets placing his faith in the Death Eater’s cause, putting them both on a painful yet worthwhile path to redemption and love.
Relationships: Petunia Evans Dursley/Severus Snape
Comments: 24
Kudos: 99





	1. Prologue

“How far should I have to go back to find myself again? So long ago, I threw out all my hope, and like dawn’s first light, it's lost once it fades.

There’s something here, inside this cold and hollow chest of mine, shivering in silence. 

No mind or thoughts, it lies here in this frozen quietness, forever sleeping. 

Numbly, I begin to gather up the rest of my scattered emotions to search for redemption.” 

\- _Half Pain_ , Bana

“With the weight of the world resting on my back

And the road on which I’ve traveled is as long as it is cracked

But I keep pressing forward with my feet to the ground

For a heart that is broken makes a beautiful sound

But when you’re wearing on your sleeve

All the things you regret

You can only remember what you want to forget….

I walk through my days like a ghost in a dream

But the field carries on and my past follows me

It’s hard moving on from the things you’ve done wrong

When they play in your head like an old-fashioned song

But when you’re wearing on your sleeve

All the things you regret

You can only remember what you want to forget.”

_-The Things I Regret_ , Brandi Carlile

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I had a lovely time with you at dinner, as always, Petunia.” Robert grinned and then leaned in to kiss the flaxen-haired twenty-three year old on the threshold to her flat.

The young woman blushed and smiled back. “I’ll be waiting for your next call.” She replied coyly.

The well-dressed gentleman then left, as the well-dressed lady entered her bachelorette flat in London, reminiscing on what a wonderful evening it had been and hoping that Robert, an investment banker five years her senior, would continue courting her. She was ready now, ready to get married, leave her flat, live in a big house, and have a family of her own.

Even amidst these happy thoughts, however, the starry-eyed young woman’s mind couldn’t help but roam to the unpleasant thoughts she tried to suppress - thoughts about the perfect little sister she always tried so hard to forget.

Many things baffled Petunia about her younger sister, Lily. The girl was a witch, not figuratively, but literally. She had abilities and access to a whole other world that Petunia could never fully understand or be a part of and that, she privately admitted to herself, simultaneously frightened her and filled her with awe and envy.

And yet, one of the things that baffled Petunia the most about Lily, was a thing much more mundane and trivial than anything related to her being a witch, and this _thing_ , was the fact that Lily had gotten married practically right out of school, when she was nineteen, not even in her twenties. And this was not the case of a young woman marrying early to save face after a certain kind of mistake, no, Lily didn’t become pregnant until a year after the marriage and now she had a one-year old son, who Petunia had still yet to meet, due to the sisters’ estrangement, which was entirely Petunia’s fault, although she would sooner take that fact to the grave than admit it, even to herself.

Although Petunia thought it was foolish that Lily had gotten married so young, and didn’t even attempt to figure out why she did, the older sister couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter and resentful about it, as she did about so many aspects of Lily’s life.

Despite always planning to settle down around her mid-twenties, Petunia still felt slighted by the fact that her perfect little sister had beat her to getting the ring on her finger. The elder sister was supposed to have her wedding first, at least in Petunia’s mind. Now, the girl was not only married first, but the first to have a baby as well.

Why did it seem like her sister was always one step ahead of her?

The grey-eyed young woman took a deep breath. There was no reason to be jealous of her sister anymore, she tried to remind herself. The two women lived separate lives now. Not only had Petunia not met Lily’s one-year old baby, she also hadn’t even attended the woman’s wedding. 

Oddly enough, the two did exchange letters from time to time, very cold, distant letters, but they were something, an acknowledgment of sorts, of the other’s existence at least.

The last kind gesture Petunia had made, was sending Lily a vase for Christmas. It was an ugly vase, true, but it was more than a letter, a token of sorts. Petunia remembered sending it off and huffing to herself. “This is me trying.” She had sighed.

A constant tug-of-war played in Petunia’s heart, with one side leaning toward the complete removal of her sister from her life and the other side leaning toward coming to a truce and completely accepting her sister and her family. Recently, the elder Evans sister found herself wavering, floundering perhaps, in the middle.

Their relationship couldn’t go on like this. Eventually, they would have to reach a point where they would either sever themselves from the other entirely or make peace somehow. More and more, Petunia found herself thinking the former option was more likely.

Sever...that word made Petunia think, unfortunately, of another person she would prefer to forget. The Snape boy from her Cokeworth youth. Severus Snape. The boy who had, ironically, started the process of severing the sisters’ relationship. To her repugnance, prim and proper Petunia found herself wondering about that greasy, scrappy, bat-like boy and what he was doing now as an adult. She chalked up her curiosity about him to simply being part of her gossipy, perhaps a tad nosy, personality. She was a keen observer and couldn’t help but be interested in other people - even those who were beneath her.

In an attempt to stop thinking about the unpleasant people and relationships in her life, Petunia began to do her evening cleaning routine. She took to the task even more intensely than usual, verging on obsessive compulsive as she scrubbed the same already squeaky clean countertop three times.

Anxiety was a longtime companion of Petunia Evans but she could not figure out why tonight of all nights, after one of the best dates of her life, she felt so many strange knots and coils in her chest and stomach. She took a bath after cleaning to soothe herself. The next day was Sunday, she thought as she lay in bed, no work, nothing to worry about.

Slowly, sleep overcame her and she drifted off peacefully, blissfully unaware of the pain, turmoil and regret life would deliver to her door in the morning.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Severus Snape was a Death Eater but he was _nothing like_ Lord Voldemort. Well, maybe nothing like wasn’t accurate. He was certainly a powerful wizard and he craved power but not because he feared death, at least not anymore than the average person, but because he saw himself as weak.

He was weak when he let his muggle father beat and taunt him.

He was weak too, when he let his muggle father beat and taunt his witch mother. 

He was even weaker when he tried to protect his mother and failed, merely getting slammed into a wall instead.

And he was at his most weak when he found himself at Hogwarts, the place that was supposed to be home, pining after Lily Evans, the girl who was his best and only friend, and who he knew, because it was obvious, did not return his feelings, while also being viciously bullied by that son-of-a-bitch, pure-blood, rich boy James Potter and his gang of marauders, which included Sirius Black, another good-looking, rich pure-blood but an idiotic one who had turned his back on his family and all the privileges that came with the Black surname, privileges Severus Snape, or “The Half-Blood Prince” as he liked to think of himself, taking his mother’s once proud, pure-blood name, would gladly murder a muggle for, that lumpy moron Peter who trailed after Potter and Black, always kissing their asses, and last but not least that godforsaken werewolf bastard who had almost killed him.

Severus Snape, Severus Prince, The Half-Blood Prince, whoever the hell he was, wanted to conquer his weakness. 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had never been the sanctuary that it was supposed to be for the young, isolated wizard boy who had grown up in a dreary muggle town under the heavy hand of his dreary muggle father. Just like Spinner’s End, it was only a place of torment, but magical torment as opposed to the less sophisticated physical torment of muggles. 

But still, Severus, or Sev as his mother had called him when she was in one of her rare good moods and not black out drunk, had received the baseline of what he wanted to get out of Hogwarts - a magical education and an opportunity to advance himself. In the end, his brains and talent had saved him, or so he had thought.

Severus’s abilities did not go unnoticed by his fellow Slytherins. He became the token half-blood in the pure-blood circles; his abilities alone had gotten him there. 

Joining the Death Eaters was never a choice, it was destiny, the only way forward.

So, when Severus realized that the Dark Lord he had come to serve would hunt down and kill the only friend he had ever had, the girl he had so foolishly hurt, a regret he still held onto to this day, the young man was understandably devastated.

He felt weak that Lily still meant so much to him and yet he knew that feeling would never compare to how weak, and wretched to say the least, he would feel if he let her die, if he was the cause of her death.

And that was how The Half-Blood Prince found himself cowering at Dumbledore’s feet, begging the old wizard for his help and pity. 

Weak, again. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, again.

But he had gotten what he wanted. Dumbledore put Lily in hiding, promised to keep her safe. Of course, these were dark, dangerous, uncertain times but Severus found himself resting a bit easier, knowing that at least there was some protection in place for his dear Lily.

Severus, who did not worship or really believe in any deity, found himself praying every night before bed, for her safety. 

This night, in particular, he found, to his repugnance, his mind going to sentimental places, bringing him back to his not so distant childhood.

Oddly enough, he found himself remembering Lily’s hostile, and obviously envious, muggle sister- Petunia. How funny that she, unlike her sister, was safe, simply by virtue of being a muggle.

He wondered, to his chagrin, how Petunia was living her life while her sister was in such a dire situation. He wondered what the sisters’ relationship was even like. Hadn’t he permanently severed it when he popped out of that tree that day, declaring Lily special and Petunia ordinary? The two girls would always play together before that but afterwards not so much. 

Then there was Petunia’s pathetic letter to Dumbledore. In hindsight, it was actually rather impressive, he mused, that the little muggle girl had figured out how to write to the headmaster, but he didn’t see it that way at the time. Back then, he was a little shit who had convinced goody two shoes Lily to sneak into her older sister’s room and read her private materials.

Severus always thought the cruelest thing he had ever done to Lily was call her a mudblood when she had tried to defend him. But then he thought about their first train ride to Hogwarts, in which she was crying, because Petunia had discovered that they found her letter and wouldn’t talk to her anymore, and instead of being empathetic and understanding, instead of simply apologizing, he had declared, in the most remiss and callous manner, “So what? She’s just a muggle.” And Lily had responded, “She’s my sister!”

He didn’t really understand the gravity of that moment until now.

Unlike his fellow Death Eaters, Severus had nothing against muggle-borns, they were still witches and wizards and that was all that mattered to him. He only had contempt for actual muggles, and even then he knew, although he would not admit it, that his contempt stemmed from his father and his childhood bullies. The innocent of any kind did not deserve to be harmed. He believed that in his heart and yet, ironically, he had the dark mark on his forearm saying otherwise.

Somehow, the Half-Blood Prince managed to fall asleep sleep tonight, and unbeknownst to him, it may well be the last time he would ever sleep peacefully through the night again, for he could not begin to fathom the gravity of the rude awakening he was in for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

The unsettling feeling Petunia Evans had felt in the pit of her stomach all evening had subsided once her head hit the pillow and she actually got some of the best sleep of her life, thinking of how well her date had gone and how well her life was going in general, estranged sister aside. She finally felt content. The past mattered to her less and less as she continued to live in the present moment and look toward her future.

She rolled out of bed with a nice, long stretch and hummed to herself as she put on her silk green morning robe and prepared a pot of her favorite Lady Grey tea. Today, she would stay in and enjoy some quiet hobbies, such as reading, sewing, and baking; then maybe take a stroll later that afternoon. From the window she noted the gorgeous foliage on the trees outside, as it was now the peak of autumn.

In her deep slumber that night, Petunia had not been privy to the rain that fell hard during the twilight hours or the three unwanted magical strangers who had come to deliver the orphaned nephew who would upend her whole world.

_“Albus, do you really think this is okay? This woman...she’s young and single and unmarried. Is it not wrong to leave her with such a burden? This will completely change her life, undoubtedly make it more difficult. Not to mention I’ve been watching her, and excuse me for saying this, but, she’s the worst sort of muggle! She rejected her sister for being a witch! She hates everything to do with magic and you dare to leave a wizard on her doorstep?” Professor McGonagall made an impassioned plea._

_“She is the only family he has and if you’ve been watching her as closely as you say, then you know that he may be the only family that she has as well.”_

_Minerva McGonagall shifted uncomfortably. “This boy will be famous. There won’t be a child in our world who doesn’t know his name.”_

_“Exactly. He’s far better off, growing up away from all of that...until he is ready.”_

_“I seldom doubt your judgement Albus, but…” Minerva sighed. She didn’t like the course of action the Headmaster was taking but realized that she actually could not think of any alternatives, and so that left her defeated._

_“Petunia Evans may be a muggle and she may be a prejudiced muggle on top of that, but she is Lily Potter’s sister. Lily Potter’s blood runs through her veins and will keep the boy safe until he comes of age. This is the only way.” Dumbledore spoke with finality._

_McGonagall acquiesced to his decision, and together, along with Hagrid, who had brought the boy, the three unwanted visitors left Harry Potter, a child who was special in more ways than one, and a letter addressed to Petunia Evans, explaining the grave circumstances, right outside the door to her flat. They then disapparated._

The boy was out of their hands now, for the next ten years at least, and into the hands of a woman who could never truly be a part of the magical world and yet never had a choice when it came to getting embroiled in its problems. 

After taking her tea, Petunia decided to do something so trivial that she never would have guessed that it would be the thing to ruin her whole day, let alone her future.

She decided to open her front door and look out into the hallway, always a little too eager to catch any pieces of stray gossip from her neighbors or make note of any unusual sounds or going ons. 

At first, she just saw a basket that seemed to be hiding something inside. The paranoid part of her brain felt threatened, worrying that she had a stalker or that maybe there was a crazy man on the loose putting explosives at peoples’ doors. 

Her less neurotic, more composed side wondered if Robert had left her a surprise gift outside her door after their date the other evening and swooned over how romantic that would be.

Staring at the basket more intently, it seemed pretty benign and either way, she wouldn’t know unless she bent down and unraveled all the cloth, it looked like blankets, covering whatever was inside.

When Petunia pushed one of the blankets back and peered inside, she nearly had a heart attack. There was a baby in the basket, so quiet and asleep that he did not make a sound. For a split second, she had the horrible thought that perhaps the baby was dead, which would mean someone had deliberately placed a dead baby in a basket at her door but when she lifted the basket up, the baby began to cry, wail was more like it.

Still freaked out but not wanting to draw attention from the neighbors, Petunia brought the baby inside and locked her door.

Upon closer inspection of the baby and his basket, Petunia noticed two things. First, the baby had a deep cut on his forehead, a scar it seemed and oddly enough, it was shaped like a lightning bolt. The next thing she noticed was a letter, addressed to her. She gasped before she even opened it, the terrible truth becoming apparent to her already.

There was always more to Petunia Evans than met the eye. On the surface, she was just another muggle ignorant of magic, none the wiser about he-who-must-not-be-named and the havoc he and his followers were wreaking on the wizarding world, which really, as much as she hated to admit it, was not really separate from her “normal” world at all. Petunia knew what they were capable of. 

Beneath the surface, the non-magical Evans sister kept the magical world close. Truthfully, she was as interested in it as she was in the mundane lives of her fellow muggle neighbors, maybe even more so. In secret, in private, she read their newspapers, collected bits and scraps of information. She was a little obsessed actually.

But she hadn’t known that her sister had been in hiding, that she had been a member of some Order that was fighting the racist dark wizard directly. Petunia knew what the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were capable of but she did not know the extent of the danger that her little Lily was in. Her little Lily. Her Lily.

_“We’ll have our very own flower shop! We’ll give it a cute, fitting name - like “Twin Leaves,” or “Perfect Petals,” and we’ll make beautiful bouquets filled with our flowers, lilies and petunias!” Lily giggled as the two sisters fell into the grass together._

__

__

_“When we’re older we’ll marry twin brothers and live in cottages side by side and we’ll both only have daughters and all of them will be named after flowers too, a Rose, a Daisy, a Violet, a Peony!” Petunia proclaimed excitedly._

Before that Snape boy had come along to spirit Lily away, her little sister was all hers and her magic was just an accident that happened from time to time, not something that marked her as “other.”

If Petunia could recapture those moments, bottle them up and hold on to them forever, she would do it in a heartbeat. But her pride made her cringe whenever she got that sentimental.

The young woman’s pale grey-blue eyes seemed now permanently glued to the letter left to her. She must have read it ten times by now but continued to read it again and again, as if her mind couldn’t process it.

Dumbledore, the powerful wizard and headmaster of Hogwarts, who she had embarrassingly written to as a child, begging to attend his magic school, and who had actually dignified her with a response, albeit a rejection, obviously- she wasn’t a witch, what was she thinking, and who she had held contempt in her heart for ever since despite knowing deep down that he had been kind to her and that if there was an award for most petty, she’d get the gold, had now written to her to let her know that in the end, magic had killed her sister and her family.

Although it was not his fault, Dumbledore’s rejection had sealed Petunia’s fate, forever cursing her as the ordinary sister. Now, once again, due to no fault of his own, Dumbledore was sealing Petunia’s fate, forcing her to confront the realities of magic yet again with full awareness that she could not wield any magic herself. She was being forced to forever be on the outside looking in.

23-year-old Petunia Evans didn’t have to worry about how to go forward in her relationship with her estranged sister any longer. 23-year-old Petunia Evans no longer had a sister and the nephew she had neglected to meet for the past year was now, for all intents and purposes, her son.

She could resent the boy, but she could not refuse to take him in. She knew what they were capable of and she knew that the boy was only safe with her. To her chagrin, Dumbledore seemed to understand her character well enough to know that she had a heart underneath all her callousness. 

After a few hours spent freaking out, soothing the baby, freaking out again, crying, curling up in a ball on her bed and wondering what kind of nightmare parallel universe she had entered, Petunia finally regained enough composure to phone Robert. There was no use in delaying the inevitable. The man she had been seeing for a year now, their relationship as old as the baby she realized, deserved to know the great and sudden change in her life and the implications they would have. She needed to talk about this with him, face to face.

One brief phone call later, a call in which Petunia had been very vague, simply telling him there was something they needed to discuss and to come to her flat as soon as he could, the young woman found herself returning to her earlier state of panic. Robert didn’t even know her sister was a witch or about the magical world in general! 

She couldn’t show him Dumbledore’s letter, which talked about he-who-must-not-be-named and the curse. How the hell was she going to explain everything?

What Petunia didn’t realize was that she wouldn’t have to worry about telling Robert anything. He would be out the door the moment he heard the news, and Petunia would be devastated but she wouldn’t realize until later what a blessing his leaving would actually be. He was not the steadfast man she truly desired in her life.

For now, though, she would have to suffer.

Robert arrived an hour after the phone call, wondering what could be so urgent.

“Everything all right, Petals?” He asked as he ran his fingers through her thin blonde hair.

Petunia took a deep breath and brought him into the kitchen to talk. She decided to forego the magical details for now and instead simply explain that her sister and her husband had died suddenly, she made up a story about a drunken car crash, and that she was now the sole guardian of their one-year old baby boy.

“Petals, this is ridiculous. You hated your sister and for good reason, her and her good-for-nothing, unemployed husband were nothing more than dregs of society and look they went and got themselves drunk and killed! Their son is not your responsibility. Let the government handle him.”

She found it incredibly ironic that Robert, who was always ranting about the government, particularly his hatred of government handouts and welfare programs, wanted that same government to deal with an orphaned baby. Maybe in that moment there was a silent part of her happy to let this callous man, who unlike her was not hiding any hint of a heart under his callousness, go.

The young woman took a deep breath. “This baby, he’s my only living family and he will only be safe with me.”

“Petals, you can’t be serious. I know I haven’t proposed yet but it should be obvious by now that I’m intending to take you as my fiancée and then hopefully my wife. We’ll start a family of our own. You can have your own son, my son.”

Petunia frowned a bit. “We can still do all of that, we’ll just have.. Ha…Har...- she struggled to say the baby’s name- Harry too. We’ll raise him well, proper.”

It was Robert’s turn to frown. “I can’t marry a woman who already has a baby.”

“Now look who’s being ridiculous!” Petunia shouted. “Bloody hell! My sister and her husband just died! It’s not like I fooled around and created this problem!” There were angry tears in her eyes now.

“Petals...I’m sorry. No, you don’t understand, I really am. Women like you are hard to come by. But, I’m not interested in having my life upended by another man’s child. I’m sorry Petals, but it’s me or the boy.”

The angry tears turned to sobs now. “Your life upended! What about mine?” She shrieked. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. I prepared myself for various reactions on your end, and braced myself for the worst but I didn’t actually think you would leave me!” Petunia could feel herself becoming hysterical now. “And you have the audacity to call me that pet name in this moment!”

Robert said nothing, waiting for her to calm down, looking down at her as if she had gone from being his perfect, obedient fairytale princess to being a shrill wicked witch.

For the second time that day, Petunia regained her composure. With her pale grey-blue eyes, she looked into Robert’s dull brown ones and said, without any hesitation - “the boy. I choose the boy.”

Petunia Evans thought her life had changed for the worse that day. She would come to realize over time, that it had changed for the better.

Her love for Harry had brought back a part of her that she thought was long dead. 

Petunia was related to the magical world and she would reject it no longer. The battle her sister had fought was her battle now too.

“I think, perhaps, another letter to Dumbledore is in order.” She mused late that night.

And so Petunia wrote to Dumbledore, letting him know that she would raise and care for Harry, and in an unexpected twist, she added that she would like to help avenge her sister’s death. 

She didn’t mention her reason for wanting to do this in her letter but it was plain as day to anyone that she wanted to atone for her past guilt. Even as a muggle, she wanted to be involved somehow. 

Petunia’s empty life finally had purpose again. “I will do anything I can.” She wrote.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On the same morning, Severus Snape too, found himself waking up to a nightmare.

Since graduating from Hogwarts just four years prior, Severus had returned to his childhood home in Spinner’s End. He had run his abusive, alcoholic, unemployed father out for good, the first action he took as a wizard of legal age.

Sadly, he still could not save his mother. Eileen Prince was too broken down by the abuse she had suffered for years at Tobias Snape’s hands. 

She did not recover after Severus had run the man out, but had slowly withered away instead, too full of regrets when she had finally come to her senses and stopped drinking.

Just a year ago, she passed away. Severus still felt that he was in mourning for her. The only people he had ever loved, the only people who had ever loved him, were his mother and Lily Evans. 

So, the family home, a house haunted by the memories of his father’s torment, his awful childhood among muggle children, and his mother's wasting away, now belonged to Severus. In spite of everything, he would not part with the place.

Why? Because he was a sentimental fool, that’s why.

There were good memories too, nostalgia for the times he spent learning magic from his mother, meditating with her, honing his potions and occlumency abilities, going to the other side of the river, the other side of Cokeworth, where Lily lived.

Besides, ever since he ran his father out, he had renovated the house using magic. It still looked like an ugly, run-down muggle home from the outside but inside he enchanted the place and filled it with books.

Severus’s favorite things, his ways of escaping, had always been magic, reading, writing and spending time with Lily. 

He didn’t really care about wealth, fame or power the way his Death Eater associates like Lucius Malfoy did. All he had ever wanted was respect and to rid himself of weakness. Really, he just didn’t want to be a target. He wanted to live in peaceful obscurity.

In that way, Spinner’s End did, strangely, transform into a sanctuary for him. Now that his parents were gone and his Death Eater duties forced him into constant contact with pure-blood high-society, he found it such a relief to escape to his inconsequential little home in his inconsequential industrial muggle town.

Severus thought about spending this Sunday at home, not going out at all, like a hermit but then he remembered that he had potion orders he needed to fill and was running low on supplies. Today would be a good day to refill them. 

Since Severus owned his home and had magic to use for repairs, he didn’t need to worry about rent or many other costs but of course he still needed to eat and have money for clothes and savings and various other things. 

At the moment, he was working as a freelance potioneer. He didn’t have the time or energy for much more with his Death Eater duties and he was also always studying, for there were always things, like his Occlumency, that he could improve upon.

Going out today would not be so bad. It was a beautiful, crisp autumn day after all. Severus put on his black coat, slipped on his black fingerless gloves, and wrapped his green scarf around himself. He was always cold. He had no idea how he had survived living in the dungeons as a Slytherin student. 

Once he was all set and had downed a piping hot cup of Earl Grey tea, he apparated to Knockturn Alley.

Word spread quickly in the magical community, as they were a small population compared to the muggles.

That morning, it seemed that there was not a single soul in the magical enclaves, in Knockturn Alley, in Diagon Alley, in Hogsmeade, in Godric’s Hollow of course, not discussing the events that had transpired just last night.

“The Dark Lord killed the Potter family last night, Lily Potter and James Potter, but when he cast the killing curse on their one-year old baby, Harry Potter, it didn’t work. The boy lived. No one has ever survived the killing curse before. There’s no explanation for it.”

“Some people are saying that the boy might be a powerful dark wizard himself.”

“The Dark Lord seems to have disappeared. They’re saying he’s been defeated.”

“A baby defeated the Dark Lord.”

“The Dark Lord is no more.”

“The Potters are heroes!”

Severus walked through both Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley. He never picked up his supplies that day. In one alley, witches and wizards whispered about the fall of the Dark Lord and what it would mean for them, if they were supporters, while in the other alley, witches and wizards celebrated as if it were Christmas or the Quidditch World Cup.

While Severus had been sleeping peacefully last night, his entire world had been upended. The Dark Lord, the Lord he served, was now dead. Death Eaters would be punished now, sent to Azkaban most likely. But despite having the dark mark on his forearm, proof of his allegiance to the Dark lord and his cause, these were the least of his concerns.

Dumbledore had failed him. Severus had foolishly placed his faith in Dumbledore, of all people, just as he had foolishly placed his faith in Voldemort, he thought, and for what? They both failed him, just like his parents and every other human being in his life had failed him.

Lily Evans, he refused to think of her as a Potter, she would always be Evans in his mind.

Lily Evans. Dead.

Lily. Dead.

That was the only information his brain could process.

He needed to know for himself, to see for himself. So, he apparated back home to get his black cloak, the one that helped obscure him as he did not want to draw any attention to himself. Wearing the cloak, he apparated to Godric’s Hollow.

Severus had never experienced such a strange atmosphere before, simultaneously tense, melancholic and celebratory.

The whispered rumors were true. There was a line of people standing outside the Potter’s house, Lily’s house, gathering to place flowers and candles at their door.

After some time, Severus decided that he had seen enough. He returned home, incapable of doing anything, except weeping for what seemed like hours.

When his eyes were finally dry and he had regained some of his composure, he felt rage begin to consume him. Severus Snape was a man of his word; he did not make promises he couldn’t keep. Albus Dumbledore on the other hand….

It took swallowing all of his pride for Severus to approach Dumbledore in the first place, asking him to protect Lily, and now it took nothing but his blind rage for him to return to Dumbledore again. 

Of course, he had already given up his life to the man in that first meeting, swearing that he would do anything in return for Lily’s protection. He had ceased being a servant for the Dark Lord after that first meeting, instead becoming Dumbledore’s slave essentially.

“Hell is other people.” Wasn’t that the story of his life? First Tobias, then the marauders, and now Voldemort and Dumbledore. Severus hated having a victimhood mentality but if anyone was justified in having one, it was him. He felt like he had been screwed over and manipulated from day one. The poor half-blood from Spinner’s End never had a chance.

“You were to keep her safe!” The Prince half-screamed, half-cried in Dumbledore’s office. He was only 21. Lily had only been 21.

“Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person, Severus, rather like you.” The old wizard could not meet the much younger man’s eyes. He stood with his back to him, looking out the window.

Severus, standing in the doorway, looked absolutely feral and overcome by emotion. The young man was bawling and leaning against a pillar as if he lacked a spine to keep himself up straight.

So much for the strong, dignified Prince, at least in Dumbledore’s presence, he’d never be able to pass himself off as cool, collected and under control. One of the greatest wizards in the world was privy to his every weakness, his every flaw, to the fact that he was a complete and utter mess of raw emotion ready to burst from the seams.

“The boy survives.” Dumbledore said, making his way over to Severus, facing him.

Severus knew what Dumbledore was implying and he refused; it wasn’t necessary and he refused to be strung along any longer.

“The boy doesn’t need protection! The Dark Lord is gone!” He spat, defensively, almost hysterically. 

“The Dark Lord will return and when he does the boy will be in terrible danger.”

Severus broke eye contact, looking to the ground, his wild onyx locks hanging over his equally dark eyes, only semi-hiding the shame and pulsing guilt that lied in them.

“He has her eyes.” Dumbledore decided to mention, and Severus felt a twisting knife in his stomach again. What a manipulative bastard the headmaster was! Funny, he had that in common with the Dark Lord.

“If you truly loved her….” The headmaster continued, rubbing salt into the wound, taking advantage of the young, misguided Death Eater in his time of distress.

He had no choice, again, like always. “No one can know.” He managed to demand firmly.

“Then I should never reveal the best of you, Severus.” Dumbledore said, and it still felt like a knife or a wand twisting in Severus’s gut, like the so-called “good” wizard enjoyed his suffering just a bit.

It was ironic, he realized, to give his life over to Dumbledore after having given it to Voldemort, but when Lily died she had taken a piece of Severus’s soul with her or so it felt.

Most 21-year olds had their whole lives ahead of them. Severus Snape had his whole life behind him.

“The boy will probably be safe for the next ten years. Until he comes to Hogwarts, he’ll grow up in the muggle world, away from our magical problems.”

The implication that the muggle world was safe or separate from the magical world’s problems was laughable.

“The muggle world?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Lily’s sacrifice saved the boy. Petunia Evans, Lily’s sister, has her blood. As long as the boy lives with her, he’ll be safe, at least until he comes of age.”

“Petunia!?” Magic-hating Petunia Evans would raise Lily’s son, that would be laughable to Severus if his sense of humor hadn’t fled from him in this horrid moment of shame and aching regret.

“I grew up with Lily and Petunia. The latter is not only a muggle but a magic-hating muggle. Is it really wise to leave a wizard baby in her care?”

“It may not be the best situation but it’s the safest for the boy.”

A million questions ran through Severus’s head. Petunia was only two years older than Lily and him. Was she married already like Lily? Did she have children of her own? He couldn’t help but be curious. If Lily’s death was his fault then so was every consequence of her death.

Dumbledore, as if reading his mind, spoke. “Petunia Evans doesn’t have any family of her own. Lily was her last relative, except for the boy, Harry. It’s not my place to judge but I believe she’s a lonely young woman, one with regrets like all of us, I think this might endear her to the boy. Perhaps make her have a change of heart.”

Petunia Evans, have a change of heart? Ha! Only when goblins fly! Severus thought to himself.

“Alright, so the boy does need protection, but for now he has it. What protection could I possibly offer?”

“When the boy enters the magical world in ten years time, you will have a very significant role to play, Severus. In the meantime, I want you to take over as Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Now that you’re an agent for the Light, a double agent, I’ll need you close by and certainly Voldemort won’t object to having a member of his inner circle keeping a close eye on me. Until the Dark Lord falls, you will play this role. If I’m not mistaken, you were working as a freelance potioneer anyway, so this should be a step-up for you, shouldn’t it?”

Once again, the headmaster had Severus tongue-tied and speechless, and feeling a bit condescended to, as well. A million thoughts and emotions swirled within him as he struggled to process the assignment he had been given, what would essentially be his life from now on, but he struggled to even imagine living his life from this point on. In the course of one night, he had gone from being a disgruntled young man to an empty shell of a man.

“I want you to take over the position starting next month. When you’re not at Hogwarts fulfilling your duties, to the school and to the Order, then I would like you to intermittently check in on the boy, Harry, and his caretaker, Ms. Petunia. They should be safe but nonetheless, danger lurks everywhere. We both failed to keep Lily out of harm’s way, so we must strive even more to protect those she left behind. You can consider that to be your debt to her, Severus.”

The young, now former, Death Eater, looked askance at the old wizard.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult for you, Severus. They live in London, near the center of the British magical world. And I’m not asking you to spy on them, merely check up on them occasionally. This really should be the easiest of the tasks you have on your plate now."

The way the old wizard kept repeating his name made the young man cringe. To be in Dumbledore’s debt may prove even worse than being in Lily’s debt.

He still couldn’t believe what was being asked of him, from becoming the Potions Master at his alma mater (and head of Slytherin House! Since he would take over for Slughorn, the former Potions Master and Head of House), to becoming a double agent (he would need to sharpen his occlumency skills even further to protect against the Dark Lord), to having to essentially stalk (the old wizard may have not worded it that way but it certainly felt that way, like an intrusion) his former childhood nemesis (Petunia was no marauder but that didn’t mean she was pleasant or kind) and his former, now dead, best friend’s baby.

It was too much to bear.

But Severus would bear it.

He wouldn’t grin and bear it, but he would bear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Thanks for reading~
> 
> -ST


	3. Chapter 3

Albus Dumbledore, like Petunia Evans, knew what it was like to neglect a sister. Not a day passed in which he didn’t think of her, Ariana. 

Albus Dumbledore, like Severus Snape, knew what it was like to be a powerful young wizard, angry with muggles, and wanting to be a part of something. 

Ariana, precious Ariana, had been damaged beyond repair by a group of muggle boys and when Albus’s father attacked the boys, out of vengeance, he not only got sent to Azkaban, but the media also painted him, not as a protective father, but as a racist.

They distorted the story into one of hatred for muggles, and young Albus, after that incident, did grow to genuinely loathe muggles, until his good sense and wisdom had eventually dragged him away from those dark, prejudiced thoughts.

Albus Dumbledore, like both Petunia Evans and Severus Snape, knew what it was like to lose love. He had fallen for Grindelwald and not shortly after, became his enemy, having to duel the dark wizard and lock him away. He never had a great love after that. No one could ever match Grindelwald in his mind or his heart.

Finally, Albus Dumbledore knew what it was like to fail people. He had failed his sister, his brother, his entire family really, Tom Riddle, the Potters, and Severus Snape - both as a student and now as a young man. 

He had told Severus he was disgusted with him for being a Death Eater and it was true, but the old wizard was equally as disgusted with himself for almost having walked a similar path so long ago.

Both Severus Snape and Petunia Evans had now become pawns in his fight for the greater good, two of many.

The old headmaster knew that both of them now saw their lives as over, two young people forever changed by the death of Lily Potter.

But Albus, with a twinkle in his eye, remembered how even in the darkest of times happiness could be found, if only one remembers to turn on the light.

While Severus seemed to be sinking, Petunia in contrast, seemed almost emboldened by the whole awful ordeal, as if it was the catalyst she needed to stop feeling like the “inferior muggle” sister and finally become involved in her sister’s world.

Dumbledore could not believe it when the young woman had written to him again, as if all her youthful moxy had returned to her. She not only agreed to take Harry in but she even went as far as to offer herself, claiming she would do “anything” to help the war effort, just as Severus had told the headmaster that he would be willing to do anything.

Eyes twinkling, the old headmaster remembered her first letter, how impressed he was that she had been cunning, clever and patient enough to figure out owl mail and utilize it. She was not the first sibling of a muggle-born witch or wizard to do such a thing, but she was certainly one of the few and one whose earnestness and eloquence had truly touched him. He thought he ought to dignify her efforts with a response, although it pained him to have to reject her due to no fault of her own. 

Now, however, as the guardian and blood protector of Harry Potter and as a muggle woman, on the fringes of the wizarding world, Albus could absolutely make use of her talents and desire. 

He wrote back to tell her that although he could not give her any clear task, other than caring for Harry for the time being, he would be in touch with her. He gifted her a snowy owl named Hestia, to keep the lines of communication open, and perhaps to give her and the baby a bit more company in their flat.

When Voldemort inevitably returned, Petunia’s role would certainly expand, but for now she was mostly focused on learning, learning about the world that she felt had rejected her and that she had rejected in turn, so that she could better understand the conflict and better understand the struggles faced by the sister she had originally deemed “too perfect” to have any struggles at all.

A squib and Order of the Phoenix member named Arabella Figg had also already been enlisted to keep an eye on Petunia Evans and Harry Potter. She moved into their building, living in a flat just down the hall. Already a bit older and preferring to stay inside with her cats, she would prove an invaluable resource to young, single, working Petunia, who would most certainly be in need of a babysitter from time to time. 

And unbeknownst to Petunia, a bat-like figure from her past, who had caused so many of her insecurities, had planted himself in her present. She had many eyes on her now.

Dumbledore did not have the luxury to muse about Severus Snape and Petunia Evans’ conditions now. There were more pressing matters he needed to focus on.

But before he moved on to the next thought, he wondered, maybe even hoped, that these two young people, whose troubles and pain were so often self-inflicted, could cross paths again and find solace in each other and help each other mend. It was a touching idea, unlikely, but touching nonetheless. The old wizard was a master manipulator but that didn’t make him any less sentimental.

_______________________________________________________________

On the last day of October, Petunia Evans became a sisterless single mother. 

It was now almost Christmas time. She had no parents, no siblings and no love interest. 

She imagined that if she had stayed with Richard she would probably be spending the holidays with him and his large, wealthy family, a splendid party it would be. 

It had been less than two months since he left her and yet Petunia had no doubt that he already had a new long-necked, slender, blonde, blue-eyed woman on his arm to show off.

Despite all the perfectly legitimate reasons to be in low-spirits this holiday season, Petunia was actually feeling rather content. She had spent the weekend decorating her flat with tinsel and holly and what not. She bought a real Christmas tree and had splurged a bit on nice ornaments and lights for it. Even though Harry was too young to get excited about unwrapping presents on Christmas morning, Petunia had still gotten gifts to put under the tree for him.

The owl Dumbledore had gifted her, Hestia, a beautiful pure white creature, lifted her spirits even more. The gorgeous snowy white owl fluttered around her flat like a little guardian angel, and matched so well with the decorations, a perfect companion in the winter.

On Christmas day, Ms. Figg would come over and although it would just be the three of them, Petunia would prepare her late mum’s turkey, roast potatoes, stuffing, gravy, cranberry sauce, brussel sprouts and yorkshire pudding. She loved to cook and impress any guest who came through her door. Besides, all the preparation would keep her mind busy, a needed distraction.

Petunia was growing quite close to Ms. Figg, seeing the woman as a surrogate mother and a kindred soul. The older woman was the only member of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix who was not a witch or wizard. She was a squib, which Petunia had not known or even thought much about, but she supposed the concept made sense, it was like the inverse of Lily. If Lily could be a witch born to muggles then why couldn’t a non-magical person, a muggle essentially, be born to magical people? 

Ms. Figg had a hard life. Squibs seemed even more looked down upon than ordinary muggles in the magical world and most of them had no choice but to leave that world behind and integrate into muggle society. Petunia wondered how many of them resented the magical world for the same reasons she had (“had,” who was she kidding herself, she still resented it a little and probably always would, even if she was embracing it more). Not for the first time, Petunia wondered why the magical world was so exclusionary and why it seemed to insist on tearing families apart (or at least that’s how it felt to her when Lily became “othered” from her) and making people choose to exist in one sphere over the other, instead of simply coexisting.

As she continued to contemplate the more puzzling aspects of the magical community, Petunia’s mind drifted back to the Order and Dumbledore’s reply to her letter saying that she would do anything she could to help his war effort, for Lily, and for Harry now too. 

The headmaster had told her that all she needed to do was be a good guardian to Harry, and although that was not as upsetting as being rejected from Hogwarts because of a lack of magic, she was hoping that she could do more. 

So, when her eyes reached the bottom of the page and it was written “I consider you part of our Order now and at some future time your help may prove vital,” Petunia, despite knowing the danger, felt far too pleased. Like Lily, she wanted to be part of something bigger.

She swore, at times, that she could feel Lily’s presence. It was her biggest regret, that she had pushed her younger sister away and could only make amends for how she had treated her now that the vivacious red-headed girl was dead. Harry was her redemption and that was cruel but it was also something she could excel at, dammit she would be the best single mum in the world!

Whenever life became too overwhelming, she would curse her sister, but then later the girl, woman really, would come to her in a dream, as vibrant as she had been when alive, as if encouraging her, and slowly but surely, her strength, her resolve, would return to her and carry her forward.

Strangely, Petunia would sometimes see another figure from her past in her dreams - a person who she wasn’t sure was alive still or dead in this war too - that awful boy, except in her dreams, he was a man, a tall man with a baritone voice dressed like some sort of gothic priest or vampire in billowy, black robes. 

He had played a role in severing the relationship with her sister but Petunia also knew that he, Severus Snape, had loved her sister. 

It was so obvious in retrospect, the way that he had always looked at her, so hungrily, so passionately. Had he continued to love her even after the fight they had that ended their friendship? Did he know about her death? 

Petunia, in spending so much time reflecting and growing these past two months, actually found herself feeling sympathy for the boy, man, whatever. She saw him as dirty and dangerous when she was a kid but with her 20/20 hindsight, it was now evident to Petunia that the boy had been underfed, unloved, not cared for. As someone with a child now, she ached at the thought of such maltreatment. 

No wonder the way he looked at Lily and doted on her almost seemed borderline creepy, she was probably the first person to care about him, maybe the only person who ever did. Lily really was special, huh? Not just because she was a witch, but also because of how she could see the good in people and make them feel less alone.

From now on, Petunia would strive to be somebody that Lily would be proud of. Witch or not, she owed that much to her. It was clear to the young woman now that it wasn’t her inherent abilities that defined her but rather her choices. The older Evans sister was rapidly transforming in just a short period of time. 

The burden of her sister’s child did not put a damper on her motivation, but instead set her on a new course. Only a few months ago she imagined that she would quit her menial typist job when she became Richard’s wife, and now she had plans to continue working, to be a self-sufficient modern woman. 

She was actually thinking of going back to school and becoming a teacher at the secondary level. The older Evans sister never thought herself as bright as her younger sister (although the comparison never seemed fair considering she was studying subjects like mathematics and literature, whereas Lily was learning how to fly on a broom and turn toads into teacups) but she was still a decent student. Teachers often commented on her disciplined and obedient behavior and on her neat handwriting and perfect attendance scores. 

Sure, she wasn’t a great writer or a math whiz but there was a subject she loved: chemistry. Maybe she wasn’t creative enough to be an actual scientist making innovations in the field, but she excelled enough at the subject to teach teenagers about it, and most importantly, it was work that she would enjoy and that would allow for some flexibility now that she was a mother.

“This isn’t what I thought my future would be like but maybe this is who I need to become.” The blue-eyed woman told herself, looking into the mirror.

________________________________________________________________

On Christmas Eve night, 1981, just two months after the death of Lily Potter, the most important person in his life, a death he had inadvertently caused, Severus Snape found himself standing outside of Lily’s older sister’s flat. 

How could it be that the stuck-up blonde bitch and James Potter’s spawn were the only things left of Lily? The muggle girl he had a mutual disdain for and the son of the man who had bullied him mercilessly for seven straight years were now the only living reminders of the most beloved person in his life. The heights life’s cruelty could reach never ceased to amaze Severus.

For the past two months, the young man had not only been dealing with grief and regret, but also adjusting to his new life - as potions master and head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts, the youngest professor on staff, let alone youngest head of house - and more importantly to his new role as a double agent. Severus Snape never slept much but at this point in his life he had full on insomnia and the dark circles under his eyes and increasing sallowness of his skin only served to emphasize that fact.

Not having anywhere to go, no family or close friends to celebrate with, Severus elected to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays, watching over the handful of students who also stayed at school for the holidays, students who were probably not so different from himself, poor bastards.

However, on the actual night of Christmas Eve, he had made his way to Hogsmeade Village and from there apparated to London.

Dumbledore had told him he should keep an eye on Petunia Evans and the boy. He had located their flat for the first time a month ago, out of obligation and he had not lingered. He had only stayed long enough to know that they lived there and that they had a squib neighbor keeping an eye on them too. 

This time, however, he was not apparating over out of some sense of duty but out of….curiosity? A masochistic desire to punish himself? To distract himself from his lonely, loveless life? 

He didn’t know why he was spending his Christmas Eve this way but he knew that he couldn’t do anything else.

From outside, standing in the shadows, he could see the bright light from her window. The curtains were open. She probably wanted to see the falling snow glistening in the night. It was a lovely winter night, if one was warm and cozy inside, not shivering outside like Severus. He had always been a cold-blooded creature. Even in his sweater, peacoat, gloves and thick muffler, he still felt chills. That’s why at work he liked wearing all black and a thick, billowy cape over his robes.

Peering in, Severus could see that Petunia had decorated her flat for the season - there was a Christmas tree with ornaments and tinsel everywhere. It was so normal, so ordinary, so Petunia. He knew her life had changed irrevocably in an instant, just as his own had. There was no way she could be in the holiday spirit as a single 23 year-old woman taking care of her newly dead sister’s one-year old baby, a wizard baby responsible for defeating one of the most powerful dark wizards of all time, a fact that he couldn’t imagine magic-hating Petunia handling very well. And yet he could see with his own eyes that she was carrying on as usual, as if everything were peachy.

“Tuney,” he remembered her stupid-sounding childhood nickname. Actually, for a long time, he didn’t know her name was Petunia. Lily had always called her Tuney. But it hadn’t mattered either way to Severus. She was just a muggle. To his young self, she might as well have just been an “it.” 

Well if that were really the case, he would have just ignored her then, right? But he never did actually. He had been just as nosy as her, just as curious as her and took just as much pleasure in provoking her as she had in provoking him. Because really, they were both just kids who wanted attention.

Arabella Figg, the squib woman, was there. Was she Tuney’s only guest? It looked like that. A twenty-something woman and a woman approaching old age of no relation to her, and last but not least, a one-year old baby whose parents were dead. A pitiful gathering indeed, but who was Severus to judge. He was the one standing alone, out in the cold after all. 

He didn’t host gatherings and even if he did, who would he invite? The Dark Lord, the heartless wizard who had murdered his beloved and her family? The other Death Eater scum, many of whom relished torture and murder in a sick, twisted way that Severus would never understand? Lucius and Narcissa were exceptions, he could actually call them friends to a certain extent, but they still wouldn’t lower themselves by going to see him in Spinner’s End. Dumbledore, a man who pitied him and used him? Minerva McGonagall?

Of all the people he could think of, his colleague Minerva was the one he was most fond of, she reminded him of his later mother Eileen, may the woman finally rest in peace after all the abuse she endured at Tobias Snape’s hand. But as a spy, he could not get too close to any of his colleagues. He was barred from intimacy.

Maybe that was why he was standing outside of Petunia Evan’s flat, Petunia Evans of all people, because in some strange way, it felt intimate, to experience her Christmas Eve vicariously. 

Perhaps, more shockingly to Severus, it felt nice to leave the wizarding world. Never did he think that he would seek comfort or refuge in the muggle world and yet here he was, feeling soothed by how mundane and ordinary the whole scene was.

Just a few years ago, a few months ago really, Severus wanted nothing more than to prove himself in the wizarding world, and now he wanted nothing more than the opposite, to disappear into obscurity.

The young wizard stood outside in the snow all night. At some point, he stopped watching, losing himself in thoughts, in escapist dreams of running away from everything. He had really come full circle. 

Young Snape wanted to escape from the muggle world and enter the wizarding world, and he had done that and it hadn’t lived up to his expectations, had it? 

He was almost killed by a werewolf at school one year and barred from telling anyone about the incident, among the many other awful stunts that his wizard peers had subjected him to. Then there was the lure of dark magic, the protection promised by the Death Eaters, and the awesome yet horrifying power of the Dark Lord. And so here he was, an adult, seeking to return to his origins.

Petunia Evans, who had always been so bitter as a child, seemed like a much happier adult than him.

Maybe an ordinary muggle life wasn’t such a curse after all. Severus found himself the envious one now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> I hope you like the chemistry teacher and the potions professor, haha
> 
> I'll probably try to update this one twice or once a month at least ~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading ^-^


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